


Bendable Light

by lostmerprincess



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Romance, Teachers AU, but not the way you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:31:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostmerprincess/pseuds/lostmerprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rapunzel is an art teacher at an elementary school. Flynn teaches English. Together, they navigate the ups and downs of modern life and find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bendable Light

Bendable Light

 

"She was bendable light: she shone around every corner of my day."  
-Jerry Spinelli, Stargirl

I.  
"Voila!" exclaimed Rapunzel Gothel, turning the canvas over on the easel triumphantly. "Well, Pascal? What do you think?" She questioned, clutching a long strand of honey blonde hair. She was the new art teacher at Corona Elementary School and was ecstatically- and anxiously- preparing for the start of the school year. Pascal, her chameleon- and the class pet- appraised the painting studiously, finally nodding. Preparing for her first year of teaching meant laboriously detailing lesson plans and supplemental activities for her pupils, as well as painting examples of different techniques, which was, all in all, incredibly time-consuming. The principal had allowed her to stay late to prepare, and so there she was, at ten at night: painting, humming, and dancing around the eclectic room she had decorated herself. Murals of flowers and suns covered the walls, and there were canvases and books everywhere, chaotic and vivid. Rapunzel had an earnest heart that triumphed in colorful clutter, and the collection of all of the things that she adored wholeheartedly- tubes of paint, flowers, and Pascal- made the room warm and inviting. As the blonde painted, she hummed absentmindedly, finally full-on singing and rapping. "I am not throwing away my SHOT,” she screamed, over-dramatically singing into a paintbrush as she shimmied around the room. However, she wasn't as alone as she had hoped. A tall brunette man stared wordlessly through the windows outside the classroom, amusedly watching the petite blonde flail as she awkwardly did the Macarena. Finally deciding to put an end to her wailing so that he could grade the papers of his summer school students, Flynn Rider, known as the cool English teacher to his pupils, waltzed into the room. "Ma'am", he began, preparing to launch into something of a lecture- after all, he was tired and drained from reading paper after paper on the merits of Charlotte's Web- before being unceremoniously knocked to the ground by…a frying pan? Rapunzel, in her fear-induced adrenaline, had grabbed a frying pan from the scene of the still life she was painting and whacked the intruder as hard as possible. With one (incredibly manly) groan, Flynn toppled to the ground in pain, clutching at his head fervently. "Oh my god!" Exclaimed Rapunzel, leaning down to stare into his amber eyes. "A-are you a thief? W-what do you want from me?" She stuttered, keeping the frying pan pointed at the supposed criminal. "If I were a thief, why would I tell you?" Flynn croaked indignantly, glaring up at the petite figure. "And all I want is for you to shut up so I can grade papers." "Oh" Rapunzel muttered. "So you're…not a thief?" Flynn rolled his eyes and narrowed his brows. "You seriously thought I was a thief?" "Well" Rapunzel muttered, clutching her hair. "Yes? Not that it's necessarily an insult…I just thought that I was alone" she finished lamely, waving a hand at the classroom. "It's just…well, my mother always told me to defend myself first and ask questions later", she explained as he hauled himself up and off the floor, wincing. Noticing the pain- and mentally hitting herself for not attempting to remedy her mistake immediately- Rapunzel babbled "Oh, goodness- do you need anything? Ice? Soup? Um, a trip to the hospital? Money? I feel terrible", before rushing to put a hand on Eugene's forehead. "I'll be fine", he drawled, eyes scanning the classroom before landing on Pascal. “What type of frog is that?" "Chameleon. His name is Pascal." Rapunzel corrected automatically. "Oh, and my name is Rapunzel. I'm the new art teacher here." She faltered, realizing with a start that her hand was still on his forehead and that she was very close to…well, his face in general. "I'm Flynn Ryder" he replied with a wink. "I teach English. It's nice to meet you." "It's nice to meet you too,” Rapunzel echoed, feeling her face turn bright red. "I'm really sorry about the whole frying pan thing. I hope we can still be friends. I've never really had real friends before, because mother always said- well, I guess it doesn't matter what she said" she rambled uncomfortably, hand still on his forehead for a reason that she couldn't define. With a high-pitched yelp she yanked her arm from his head and tugged at her hair, her face still burning red. Flynn studied her, suddenly concerned- her huge emerald green eyes seemed suddenly watery, and her fragile figure seemed to slump. "Um. Are you okay?" He asked, clearing his throat uncomfortably and wondering why he was asking the girl that just straight up ninja attacked him if she was okay. "I guess" she replied, perching on a desk in the classroom absentmindedly. "It's just that- well, I just graduated college and um. Moved out from my mom's place. She always told me that I couldn't make it out in the real world. That it's a disaster out here- that I'm too weak for it. And today I almost believed her when you burst in here. I just don't know how to feel." She finished, peeking up at Flynn in embarrassment. "Well, you shouldn't worry. Your mom was wrong. The world may be frightening, and scary people may be out there, but in all the books I read, love and goodness are always there. The good always wins over bad,” Flynn said slowly, piecing the words together as helpfully as possible. With a teary smile, Rapunzel turned to him and grabbed his hand. "We are going to be best friends!" she exclaimed. And although Flynn didn't really have friends, he felt something shift in his soul imperceptibly as he stared into Rapunzel's massive green eyes, eyes that were joyful despite having just been tear-filled. "Yeah." He heard himself say gently. "Best friends."

II.  
Soon they had something of a system set up- they would coordinate the preparation of lesson plans and assignments, sitting for hours and bouncing ideas off of each other. Flynn would help Rapunzel with her nerves regarding teaching, and she would bring a creative approach to his ideas. When the school year finally started, they saw less of each other but still managed to meet a few times a week, going out to lunch or grading assignments together. Both Rapunzel and Flynn, who, for the majority of their lives, had been friendless, secretly adored the arrangement. While foraying into the adult world was hard for Rapunzel, having a friend that was willing to assist her with her many questions helped immensely. She was enchanted with her job entirely, and her pupils were enchanted with her as well; the pretty petite blonde was like a princess to them, her long hair blazing golden in the sunlight of the cluttered classroom. One day, when Flynn had a conference period and was free, he popped into Rapunzel's classroom and found himself the unwilling model for a bunch of first graders. "Now, artists, you need to do this beauty justice", he declared snootily, gesturing to his face with gusto. Rapunzel couldn't help but giggle at Flynn, who was perched on a stool and staring dramatically into the distance. Once the session of modeling was over and the kids packed up and headed home, Flynn and Rapunzel stared at the portraits with open mouths. Holding up a particularly caricature-like portrait, Flynn sputtered "they just CAN NOT get my nose right!" in disbelief, eyes wide as he examined the squash-like facial figure that protruded horrendously from his drawn face. Rapunzel giggled loudly, tears running down her face as she clutched her stomach. "You look ridiculous!" She laughed, practically falling into Flynn's shoulder as she attempted to hold herself up (and failed). With a long-suffering sigh, Flynn gently pushed a chortling Blondie off of his shoulder, stood up, and draped a hand on his heart. "I am truly pained, Goldie. I was blessed with a beautiful face and all you do is laugh at this heinous misrepresentation!" With a sigh and a grin, he walked out of the classroom gracefully, leaving behind a crying-from-laughing Rapunzel, convulsing on the floor. "I'm sorry!" She screamed, still guffawing endlessly at the terrible drawing. When she had finally stopped laughing, she stood and grabbed the drawing, staring at it fondly. With one quick glance to make sure that no one was looking, Rapunzel took a picture of the artwork on her phone and began to clean the classroom. 

III.

 

"Two households, both alike in dignity!" exclaimed Flynn, a wayward arm tossed dramatically over his brow. "There, like that!" He exclaimed, turning to a pupil of his. He was directing Romeo and Juliet for the school, and found himself attempting to explain the many wonders of the Bard to a gaggle of children. It wasn't going so well. Getting kids to understand Shakespearean language was a colossal pain. With a slight sigh Flynn sat back down to watch the scene again, absent-mindedly tapping a pen against his clipboard as he listened to the opening sonnet. When the company had finally gotten to the first meeting of Romeo and Juliet, Flynn found himself groaning inwardly. After all, fifth graders were not particularly inclined to romance, and stumbled awkwardly through scenes. "Okay, let me show you guys how to do this" Flynn began, forcefully smiling. "I know it's hard, but I have complete and utter faith in all of you guys and your acting abilities. Just be confident, okay? Let me demonstrate." He began, looking around for a person to demonstrate with before going with his natural response to anything: screaming for Blondie. "Rapunzel?" He bellowed, turning to look for her. "Now, as we know, Miss Rapunzel has been helping paint sets. But I'm sure she's a talented actress, right, Blondie?" Finally, an exasperated Rapunzel slowly walked out from backstage, dressed in old, paint-splattered sweats, her hair haphazardly thrown in to a bun. She took in the scene- a gesturing, roguish Flynn Rider, embarrassed-looking kids, and the sight of sloppy looking "props" strewn on the stage floor. And blinked. "Well…" she began nervously, hoping that she wouldn't have to answer. "A-ha! Come here, fair lady. Help me demonstrate to these fine protégés the art of the theatre" he crowed, waving her over. Hesitantly, she shuffled to where he stood, grabbing a slightly crumpled script on the way. "I'll start" Flynn said, clearing his throat loudly. "My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand, to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss." "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much. Which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss" Rapunzel replied, her voice melodic and soft. Flynn was momentarily stunned- something in his heart lurched at the sight of her, paint-splattered and blushing, her voice beautiful and honey-tinged. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?" He questioned softly, feeling himself move closely to her without even thinking, his eyes closed. "Well!" Exclaimed Rapunzel, backing away from Flynn abruptly. "I think that about does it! I'm sure everyone understands it now. Immortal work, you know. The ultimate tragedy. Very beautiful. And…um…tragic." She babbled uncomfortably, face flaming. "Rapunzel, I-" Flynn began, feeling his face heat up as well; he hadn't meant to be so amorous- he wasn't entirely sure what had just happened. But when he attempted to address her, she squealed and rushed off, shouting something about paint and tragedy. With a sigh, Flynn turned to his confused students. "Rehearsal is over."

IV. 

One rainy day, when the sleet-grey clouds stormed endlessly, Rapunzel violently painted one of her many canvases, only stopping when the shrill ringtone of her phone rang. With a sigh, Rapunzel grabbed her phone and pushed the speakerphone button, weakly saying "hey." The familiar voice of Flynn filled the room. "Goldie?" He questioned worriedly. "What's wrong?" With a sniffle, Rapunzel hugged her chest and twisted her hair around her hand. "The principal talked to me today." She began slowly, sniffling. "Arts funding might be cut next year and I might not have a job." A stagnant silence filled the air, punctuated only by Rapunzel's slight sniffles. Finally, Flynn said, "Oh my god…Here, I'll come over. Are you okay?" "I don't know,” confessed Rapunzel as she stared out at the gloomy sky. "I don't think it's hit me yet." "That's okay," assured Flynn, his voice gentle over the phone. "I'll be at your place soon. We'll talk when I get there, yeah?" With one last reassurance, Rapunzel hung up and cleaned up her studio mechanically, finally brewing green tea as she waited for Flynn's arrival. She felt vague and faded, almost detached from herself. She had just gotten into the swing of things with her students, and adored each one infinitely. Rapunzel couldn't imagine that her pupils, starry-eyed and imaginative as they were, would be deprived of an arts program. When the doorbell startled her out of her melancholic reverie, she shuffled to the door and opened it to a bleary-eyed and scruffy Flynn, who pulled her into a hug instantly. With a guilty thought, she confessed to herself the other source of her sadness: she would miss Flynn whole-heartedly if the arts program really were cut. She knew suddenly that she had been tricking herself into false apathy, that she felt suddenly safe in his arms; safer than before, with her mother, safer than she could have ever imagined. "I made tea," she managed to mutter, her heart pulled dangerously in different directions, rising in her throat. The two shuffled to her dingy kitchen, and Rapunzel hoisted herself into the counter, the steam from her tea wafting lazily in the muted light. "I don't know what to do." She whispered, breaking the comfortable silence and staring into the distance. "You don't need to." Flynn replied softly. "And we don't even know for sure what will happen. The universe works in mysterious ways. It might not be as bad as you think- maybe the principal alerted you just because they didn't want you to feel blindsided if the worst case scenario comes true." "I know that," Rapunzel replied. "But I can't help but feel like it's not just a warning. Maybe it was all too good to be true." With a sigh, Flynn pushed himself up from where he was sitting and edged closer to Rapunzel. "Cheer up, Blondie. You won't be down for long. Where's that famous, slightly annoying optimism?" Rapunzel smiled slightly and announced, her voice wavering "it's on a vacation." "Well," Flynn began, pushing himself up on the counter beside her, "my optimism has just come back from war. And it has a question for you: what's your biggest dream? Maybe this will give you time to pursue that." Rapunzel pursed her lips and scrunched her eyes. "Well…I've always wanted to go to a lantern festival. Ever since I was a little girl, where I used to live…they had one annually. But my mother never let me go. And since graduating high school and getting away I-well, I never did go. Something always held me back. When it happens, it needs to be perfect, you know?" She said in a rush, turning to Flynn with earnest eyes. "What about you? What's your dream?" "Well" began Flynn uneasily, seemingly glancing at Rapunzel for reassurance. "In my class, I teach this book- my favorite. The Tales of Flynnigan Rider" when Rapunzel gave a gasp of recognition, he gave a small smile. "When I was a kid, I was in an orphanage. And I was older than the others- too old for anyone to want to adopt me, really. And I had to take care of the others, to make sure they were presentable and happy. And we would read this book constantly, and I just dreamed of being as brave and as strong as Flynnigan Rider. So I renamed myself. As soon as I got out of that orphanage, I adopted this persona and I haven't looked back. But now I'm not sure what I'm doing, or who I am. It's like I outgrew even Flynn Rider." With a deep sigh, Flynn steeled himself. "My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert." "Eugene" whispered Rapunzel softly. For a sudden, painful moment, Eugene felt as if his Blondie would laugh at him like the others had, and braced himself for imagined ridicule. "I LOVE IT!" she squealed, hugging him enthusiastically. "It is so much better than Flynn Rider!!" "It is?" Questioned Eugene incredulously, blinking quizzically at the seemingly sincere blonde. "Yes! It means the world that you would tell me that, Eugene. But you didn't answer- what is your dream? I'm sure you have one." "Well, I guess I've always wanted to live alone on an island and just live my life out, wealthy and content" he replied. And yet he felt something wrong in what he had said- he felt himself, imperceptibly, moving on from what he had once desired. And so the gears in his brain started turning. 

V. 

When the end of the year approached steadily, Rapunzel was still unsure of her position's security and attempted to ignore the problem, making sure to bring as much art into her pupils' lives as possible. Eugene watched her bursts of energy warily, certain of her misguided attempts at avoiding the circumstance. The idea that had formed weeks ago in the twilight of her apartment was progressing valiantly. And, finally, it was ready. After another day of courageously ignoring her feelings, Rapunzel biked home, inhaling the sweet spring air absentmindedly. Suddenly, a streak of turquoise and brown rushed past her, and she heard Eugene bellowing impressively. When she sensed his figure about to jump in front of her bike, she screamed and braked, nearly tumbling to the sidewalk. "EUGENE DANGER FITZGERBERT!!" She screeched, launching her petite figure at his solid, tall one vehemently. When she had successfully tackled him to the ground she started viciously tickling him, and his laughter swelled until he stopped and blinked. "Danger?" "Yup. You said it was your middle name, silly! Remember? When you released that spider for me!" With another slow blink, Eugene started guffawing. Lightly, Rapunzel sat on his chest and examined his prone form, her heart strangely warm. Shaking the feeling aside, she leaned down and glared at him menacingly. "Why did you throw yourself at my bike?" "Because," he panted. "I have something to show you."  
And so he led her up a hill to the field outside of the school, where kids, parents, and teachers milled about, soft pop music playing in the distance. The guests perused outside art galleries, arranged in the lush grass of the field. "What is this?" questioned Rapunzel, her eyes searching the scene, a warm feeling spreading through her body. "It's a fundraiser for the arts program." Eugene explained. "I talked to the principal and the PTA, and they agree that arts education is vitally important. And they also agreed to cut some more opulent things and fundraise every year. It's an art show of all of your pupils" Rapunzel lifted her hand to her mouth, feeling tears well in her eyes. "Thank you so much, Eugene." She breathed, turning to him. "That's not even the best part." He replied. "Look, the sun's going down. Come with me." He grabbed her hand and led her through the swaying grass, until she stood, her hair swirling in the breeze. They were in front of the crowd, staring into the twilight. "Keep looking ahead, okay, Punz?" He said, leaving her side for a second. When he returned, the sky officially dark, inky and infinite, he grabbed her hand. "Are you ready?" "Yes", Rapunzel whispered back, feeling more assured than she ever had been, the callouses of his hand perfect against hers, the feeling of his height against her extreme shortness, the way she felt his steady pulse against her own. "Turn around" he breathed.   
And she did.   
Before her was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen- silhouette after silhouette of anonymous people, clutching blazing lanterns in their hands. Amber light danced in creeping shadows, soft amongst the deep night. The rustle of the people, laughing and singing along to the radio, all there for art and for community, highlighted by candles and flashlights and lanterns, was the most beautiful sight. And yet, Rapunzel felt more enchanted by Eugene, solid and warm beside her, his eyes on her. She could see his nose, his nose that simply couldn't be drawn, his eyes, sparkling like lanterns, a hesitant and inquiring smile, all lit in the hazy glow of the night. "Do you remember when we talked about dreams?" She finally questioned, her voice catching in her throat. "Of course." "Well", Rapunzel breathed. "You are my new dream." "And you are mine." He replied softly, bringing a calloused hand to a strand of golden hair and tucking it behind her ear gently. And when they kissed, finally, they lifted a lantern into the air together, and the crowd noticed, releasing their lanterns into the night sky and peering up into the cosmos, momentarily honeyed by the floating lights, hearts full and buoyant in the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I really hope Ol' Willy Shakes isn't offended at my blatant misuse of one of his works. I love you, Shakespeare. Anyways . . . I would really appreciate comments/kudos/bookmarks!! I would love some constructive criticism! I adore Tangled (once I watched it nine times in a week) so this just felt natural. I hope you all enjoyed! 
> 
> xoxo, Lostmerprincess <3333


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